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EPILOGUE

DR. LEYDEN SUMS UP

AH, yes," said Leyden, "it is horribly pathetic; horribly! To me the whole race is pathetic wherever it has been brought into contact with ours. The pity of it; the pathos, the infinite pathos of the negro! Poor, dazed, bewildered black! dragged from the dark shadows of an African forest, loaded with chains, lashed through generations of slavery, and then—his shackles are knocked free; he is endowed at once with a soul, a voice, a vote; told to be civilized! Can we wonder that he grows bewildered?

"Mark him, my friends, this pure-bred African. It is seldom that you see him, but when you do, eliminate him from his fellows of semi-caste and scrutinize him closely. See! He is offended … scowls … mutters … looks murderous and is murderous, there is no doubt. His antagonist makes a jest. Like a flash his anger is whipped away; he grins sheepishly, more broadly, and with a flash of his white teeth; the other man is a funny fellow. He says something droll, and lo! our murderer of a minute past giggles, shouts with laughter, throws himself upon the ground, and rolls over and over in a paroxysm of mirth.

"But now, mark him as he rises! A woman working near him says a jeering word; he jeers in return, but half-heartedly, because he has learned to fear the

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